


Downy Feathers

by Bountiful_Birds



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Gen, How Do I Tag, I Don't Even Know, Mutants, My First Fanfic, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, What Was I Thinking?, Wings
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-13
Updated: 2018-08-13
Packaged: 2019-06-26 15:14:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,625
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15665796
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bountiful_Birds/pseuds/Bountiful_Birds
Summary: Feathers. Soft, beautiful, gentle. They are called many things. Some would even call them comforting or a sign of peace. To you, though, they are deadly. They are sharp as a blade, strong as steel, and precise as a marksman. For you, they are a weapon, a weapon you hide and cover up. You didn't want to end up this way. Now you're free from the place that held you captive, and apparently can't go one minute without something bad happening.**This is my first fic, please enjoy and please tell me what I can make better about this**





	Downy Feathers

In New York the winter time never really felt cold to most.

Warm lights danced across the streets and hung above every shop. The lamp posts were wrapped in ribbons, they were tied off with bows and snowflakes that lit up at night.  
Everywhere people could see Christmas trees inside homes and wreaths on doors that had large, red bows on the front. The shops were decorated outrageously with ribbons, wreaths, lights, and some poinsettia flowers.

The scenes they paint in the windows with fake snow and foam snowmen were gorgeous and they always made children run up and beg their parents for an expensive toy.

On every corner it was bright with cheer, smiles and laughter even at night. Everyone was smiling and people felt even more generous during these wintery times.

Gifts were being exchanged to friends, family and significant others. Ice skating and other winter activities were taking place with gentle christmas music whispering on the winds.

  
But for one lone girl, with a ratty, old green jacket, a t-shirt and a pair of baggy sweatpants, it was freezing and only served a reminder of how lonely she really was.

It never really occurred to her before, after all she didn’t remember a time with any sort of family. During the holiday times, though, it was excruciating to see everyone so happy with their loved ones.

There were no people in her life, she lived on the streets and wandered around in hope for money and food. Like most of the others like her. She doesn’t mind much, though it would be nice to at least know her parent’s names.  
_It’s not so bad, could be way worse_ , she thought to herself with a shudder. She let out a long sigh, her breath clouding in front of her face.

  
She sucked in sharp breath of the freezing air through her mouth and let it out off her nose slowly. She pulled her jacket closer to her back and shuffled the two large limbs to pull tighter under her jacket.   
“Where can somebody find a cheap place to eat around here, seriously this is ridiculous,” she mumbled with a hint of anger as she walked around only seeing shops that sell fancy soaps, candy, toys and ornaments.

 

Apparently, someone was listening and they gently tapped her shoulder. She whipped around, preparing to attack them somehow when she noticed who it was.   
Just a normal civilian who wants to help some homeless person out.

  
“I'm sure I saw a fast food restaurant down that street, on the left side. I think it was a McDonalds,” a man told her, they looked familiar somehow, but she wouldn't dwell on the subject right now. He seemed harmless.

  
“Oh, thanks,” she gave the man a half smile that looked more like a grimace than the smile she intended.

 

She waved at him as he left, to try to be a little more friendly to the man who told her about a food source.

The young woman walked the street towards the directions the man gave her, the shoes she wore were torn up and worn thin, making walking through the snowy sidewalks difficult. A burst of cold wind blew past her, she squinted her eyes and curled closer into herself.

 

The walk seemed longer with snow starting to fall heavily downward onto the streets. It soaked into her jacket and made it so her entire body was an icicle.

 

Though soon enough, she spotted the McDonalds, a small smile surfacing over her grim features. She walked faster, crossing the street. She seemed almost too eager to get to the fast food place.

 

She didn't notice the screech of tires on the slippery street, or the way people stopped because apparently the light was green.

It was like time slowed down so she could see what was happening in better quality.

 

It was too blurry, but she did notice a very bright light.

A very bright light and a grotesque thump and crack. She didn't feel the pain until after she had heard the scream, the slam of a car door, people yelling, and of course sirens.

 

 _How long has she been here? A few seconds? More?_ She thought, ignoring the searing pain in her ribs, legs and really her entire body.

 

Suddenly she felt weightless, her eyes quickly getting blurry images of someone leaning over her. They seemed to be talking but it sounded like she was underwater. The pain flared up in her side again, spreading out and thrumming through her entire body.

She didn't ignore it this time.

 

The world got even more darker and darker, the last thing she felt was a warm liquid beside her, but then there was nothing.

 

* * *

 

 

Then she was in the facility again.

Back in the pristine white room that haunted her nightmares.

She was back in the place that she hated so much, the place that tortured and mutated her into the thing she was today. They cut her up and sewed her back together, stuck syringes in her every chance they got.

The only reason she was alive and walking the streets right now was because of some agency, _S.H.I.E.L.D, was it? There was definitely some sort of agents there._ The girl thought as she delved back into her memories.

 

She could feel the hands on her skin, the pokes and prods of their searching hands. She could feel the pinches and pulls when they shoved needles in her arms and back.

 

She felt the tugs on her feathers, a prick of needles inside her large wings. They were black and white, they reminded her of magpie wings with a little less shine to them.

They didn’t care they just wanted strong, agile wings to be used and replicated. They wanted a perfect little item to be sold to anyone who wanted their own guardian angel, or weapon, it didn’t matter.

 

The lab wasn’t as bad as the training, while it was definitely not torture to most, it broke down the mind of the person who did it.

It didn’t kill them, or make them mindless things. It made then loose hope that they were to do anything other than the training. They were weapons, guards, pets, they were there to serve. So it wasn’t horrible, no, but when it's done over and over again? It becomes torture.

 

 _The memories are all jumbled, they are always the same so why try to remember?_ She would always think, sitting in the clean white room, her wings tense and alert, tight to her back. Although it was a memory, it sure felt real.

The memory started out the same, _a lab assistant, strapped down, training, white room- wait, no, that’s the alarm? That's odd, huh, the scientists are running._ She stood there, staring at the chaos going down in the plain hallways.

 

People in white lab coats were trying to escape, papers were flying everywhere, test tubes were shattered on the ground, and the people in black armored suits were running around the facility. She didn’t know what to do, _this had never happened, this isn’t routine, what's happening? Who are these people? Why are they running?_

She stood there, eyes wide and mouth agape. A man came up to her, a man with a dark suit on, a quiver with arrows, and a bow. He gently put his hand on her shoulder, giving her a small smile as he looked down at her face.

 

“Hey, you’re probably a little freaked out right now, but can you tell me where the main research lab is?” He questioned, putting his other hand, the one with the bow, on his hip.

 

The girl nodded, she looked down the hallway, not many people left only a few looking for more people she supposed.

Taking him down the hallway, she kept her head down making sure not to look at the man beside her. He continued to talk to her, telling her that his name was Hawkeye. Apparently his favorite color was purple and he is really good with a bow and arrow.

He asked her questions as well, she replied with whispers and mumbles. Though, the room did seem a little brighter as he talked to her, a smile threatening to tug at her lips.

 

“It’s right through this door, it’s easy to tell that it’s the research lab,” She mumbled, opening the sliding white door.

 

“Thanks kid, tell me, what's your name?” He asked, stopping before the door and looking down at her.

 

“Code: 2-7,” She replied, once again with the quietest voice she could muster.

 

“That’s no good, how about I give ya’ one? I like the name (Y/n), how about that?” He said with a boyish grin, his blue eyes shining.

 

She looked up at him, confusion showing clearly on her face. Her eyes widened a fraction before a shy smile showed up on her face.

 

“I like that too,” she told him with a bit of joy laced into her tone.

  
  


The memory faded out, darkness clouding the girl’s vision once more. There was a beeping, a dull noise that seemed to pierce through her body.

 

Her eyes were closed, she knew that much, the light behind her eyelids were showing through and making her dread opening them.

What was the point? If she was in a hospital than it wouldn’t do much for her case, with the large feathery limbs on her back.

 

A small groan escaped her lips, the throbbing pain coming back to her at full force after she woke up. Her eyes snapped open when she heard a door open and slam shut.

 

“(Y/n)? Is that you?”

**Author's Note:**

> Please comment, I honestly don't know what I'm doing and I need feedback to know if I should continue this. I might add ships later, but it will be background and the reader will not have a relationship with any of the Avengers. She is around the age of 16-18, I dont like shipping 16-year-olds with people older than 20.


End file.
